


On A Spring Afternoon

by afteriwake



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-29
Updated: 2015-06-29
Packaged: 2018-04-06 21:05:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,705
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4236609
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/afteriwake/pseuds/afteriwake
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sherlock and Molly are having a picnic one spring afternoon, and Molly's making a flower crown. Sherlock is curious as to just what else those fingers can do.</p>
            </blockquote>





	On A Spring Afternoon

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ditsypersephone](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ditsypersephone/gifts).



> So on Tumblr [there was a conversation](http://penaltywaltz.tumblr.com/post/122616938743/ditsypersephone-penaltywaltz) between **ditsypersephone** and I about the headcanon that Molly put flower crown on Billy the Skull. A picture was drawn, and I offered fic, so this is the fic!

He hadn’t been particularly fond of the outdoors ever since Redbeard had been put down. Without someone to explore it with there was no point in going outside. He chose to stay indoors from then on, running experiments and reading books on the sciences and generally avoiding being outside unless he absolutely had to be, usually for school. Those were the times he absolutely loathed it. And as such, he had never been the type to appreciate the beauty of nature, instead looking at everything and classifying it scientifically. That was the way his mind had always worked, translating things into scientific terms that he had a firmer grasp one. He _could_ appreciate beauty, though, so long as it came from a place that made mathematic or scientific sense.

Until he met Molly, that was.

Long before they began a relationship he saw her admiring a bouquet of flowers someone had sent her. He’d been struck by her plucking a rose out of the vase, bringing it to her nose and taking a whiff. She’d smiled a contented smile he hadn’t understood at the time, but he mentally catalogued that moment and sometimes when he thought of her that image came to mind. Another time he caught her tracing raindrop trails on the window of her office, and when he caught her attention she went into a scientific explanation of how certain drops clung to the window and moved faster than others, and yet she still liked predicting where they would move and how quickly they would get to the windowsill. He thought he’d delete that memory from his mind palace immediately but it stubbornly stayed, to be joined by many more such moments over the years, bits where she showed just how lovely and kind and beautiful she was and how all those things that made her uniquely her couldn’t be quantified and studied.

She loved to go to parks and public gardens when she could, be around nature and enjoy the good weather when it was about. There was a garden near her home she was particularly fond of, and when they began dating he would find himself surprising her on the sunny days with a basket full of food and a blanket and a trip to what had become their favorite secluded spot in the gardens. The wide smile on her face and the brightness in her eyes were sufficient reward for being out in nature for the course of the meal, and the enthusiastic kisses afterwards were also quite excellent.

Today he had to admit he was enjoying the peace and quiet. It gave him a chance to get some peace from the thoughts swarming in his head on his newest case. It was a rather warm day, so his shirtsleeves were rolled up to his elbow and he had already taken his socks and shoes off. He was leaning against the base of the statue that marked their area, watching Molly. She had collected purple, orange and pink flowers a little while earlier and had made a small chain, and she seemed to be working on making it longer. “What are you doing?” he asked, amused.

“Making a flower crown,” she said, looking up with a smile on her face. She had the flowers in her lap, sitting in the skirt of the sundress she wore. “I used to make them all the time when I was a little girl.”

“I think I’d like to see you in one,” he said, tilting his head.

“Well, when this is done I’ll put it on. And then I can make one for you,” she said before looking back down at her lap. “There’s more than enough flowers for that.”

“I think if you were to make me a flower crown I might actually wear it,” he said, getting up and moving closer to her. He pressed a kiss to the side of her neck, which was easy to do today since her hair was up. “If that would make you happy.”

“It would,” she said, shutting her eyes. “But if you keep that up I won’t finish.”

“I suppose I can wait,” he said, moving his lips down to drop a kiss on her bare shoulder before pulling away. He watched her fingers work swiftly and nimbly, and after a few more minutes she connected both ends of the chain to form the crown. She set it on top of her head and looked over at him. He nodded approvingly. “I like it.”

“I should work on yours now,” she said.

“Or,” he began, reaching over and carefully lifting it off her head before placing it on his own, “I can just steal yours.”

“You could do that,” she said with a soft laugh. “But it wouldn’t be hard to make a second one.”

“I just find I want those hands working their magic on me instead of the flowers,” he said.

“Ah,” she replied knowingly as she nodded. She moved one of her hands towards his crotch, running her fingers over the slight bulge in his trousers. “And are my hands going to be the only ones working any magic today?”

He moved a hand to her knee and then under the skirt of her dress. “I don’t see why you should do all the work,” he said, inching his way up her thigh.

“Good,” she said, increasing the pressure of her caresses. He began to grow harder beneath her fingers, and so he retaliated by letting his fingers stroke her against her lace knickers. He watched her shut her eyes and smile the contented smile he’d seen when she had the rose all those years ago, the one he loved to bring to her face as often as possible. After a moment he let a finger slip underneath the scrap of lace and began stroking her core. “Oh, Sherlock,” she breathed, lifting herself up slightly.

His own pleasure could wait, he decided as she began to move against his fingers. He slipped one inside her, then another, moving them in and out at a leisurely pace. The look she had on her face now was the other one he liked to bring about as often as possible, the look just before she lost herself in release, and he kept teasing her towards her climax, using his palm and the heel of his hand to give her the friction she craved. “It’s all right,” he said as he hand fell away from him, as he felt her tighten around his fingers, and she gave a soft moan as she came, a sound that was music to Sherlock’s ears.

When she was done she looked down at him, panting slightly. “It’s not fair that I get all the fun,” she said when she’d finally caught her breath.

“And just what would you do to return the favor?” he asked, removing his hand from her knickers.

“What would you like me to do?” she asked, moving her hand to the zipper of his trousers and slowly lowering them. He shifted a bit when she moved her hands to undo the button and then push them and his pants down, freeing his erection. She grasped it in one hand, squeezing gently as she moved her hand up and down. He shut his eyes for a moment. If she added her mouth he would lose himself right then and there, and he wanted to please her again if he could.

He put his hand over hers, stopping her movements. “I want you,” he said. “I want to be deep inside you.”

She grinned at him and moved her hands away before shifting her position and pulling her knickers completely off. When she moved away he began to shed his trousers and pants completely. This part of the garden was secluded enough that they could have gotten completely stark naked and no one would have intruded upon them. She laid down, hiking up her dress to her waist and spreading her legs for him. Once he’d positioned himself he entered her slowly. He was damned if he was going to rush. He wanted to take his time with this.

He pulled out just as slowly before thrusting into her again. The soft moans she was making were music to his ears, more exquisite than the most beautifully performed orchestral piece. Everything he gave she took, and her soft pleas for him to go deeper, for him to go faster, they sounded like perfection. And he obliged of course, until he was driving himself so deep inside her he wasn’t quite sure where he ended and she began. He felt her begin to tighten around him and knew that soon she was going to have her release, and when she came with his name on her lips he followed a moment later, feeling utterly spent when he was done.

She reached up to touch his face when she had caught her breath. “That was magnificent,” she said, running her fingers along his cheek. “I think this is the best picnic I’ve ever been on.”

“It definitely makes me think we should have more dates in the great outdoors,” he said, leaning in to kiss her softly. She moved her other hand up and framed his face as she kissed him back. When he pulled away he saw she had a wide smile on her face and an amused gleam in her eye. “What?” he asked.

“The flower crown is still on your head,” she said. “It’s a bit lopsided, but still there.”

He sat up and then reached up, plucking it off his head. “I think I’m going to keep this crown,” he said. “Put it in a place where I can see it and remember today.”

She thought for a moment. “It should go on Billy. I’ll put it on him when we get back to Baker Street.”

He nodded, handing it to her once she’d sat up more. While people might scoff at his skull suddenly having a crown of flowers on it he knew he would look at the flowers and remember what was quite possibly one of the best afternoons of his life.


End file.
